


together

by tadanomarz



Category: Sound Horizon
Genre: Drowning, Gen, Lost (album), Memory Alteration, Memory Loss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-02
Updated: 2016-04-02
Packaged: 2018-05-30 20:21:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6438850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tadanomarz/pseuds/tadanomarz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>he takes them, while she returns the memories. they are together in this ruthless job, forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	together

With a great splash, the boy submerges within the water, the air being choked out of his lungs. The wheels of tragedy begin to spin once again, and it would not be long till his transformation would take place. Many invisible eyes focus on the lone spirit who emerges, no longer trapped by the hollow shell that he once breathed through. Among the spirits is mischievous child, bent on madness and assigned to take what was not his once again. It was a duty given to him by his superior, the woman who from behind the scenes crafted theses performances for her entertainment. Like many other nights, the cycle within horizon returned to this fateful night; it was just about time for him to do his job. Since the words were first written on paper, it was his task to rob the boy of his memories. _Most, not all,_ was what Madame told him. Disobeying the lady – the playwright, was not recommended. He remembers how she smiled dangerously, when shooing him off to do complete his new task.

The overlapping voices from the other spirits fill up the old well, clashing with one another. It made it hard for someone to think properly, now that he thought about it. He waits in anticipation, watching one of the souls who fell victim in the well speak for the rest. His appearance too was drenched in darkness, like ink had spilled onto him. What was once yellow like the sun, now looked a sickly green; strips of the darkness marked his hair like the others.

He is an unknown man who was forgotten by history, and like the others stripped of his name and identity – becoming apart of the mass of negativity.

“Don’t you have things you still have to do up there?”

“ _Yes_.”

This scene had played countless times, and he knew the result of it. The spectator yawns behind his grey sleeves, watching the scene beginning to unfold. The boy would agree, and then the ravenous spirits would consume him. And with supernatural magic they’d craft a new body when he was added to their collection. White hair would be stained by ink of the shadows, while his red eyes would be replaced by a sickly golden hue. The doll from his dear friend would become a malicious entity, tempting him to continue their revenge– whatever that meant.

And at that moment, when the boy agrees to the other spirit’s words, they attack him like crows. Stripping of him of any identity that he has left. The spectator swoops down to the core of this hell, touching at the boy’s forehead – taking what was not his: his  _identity –_ along with his past. He holds up the orb of light that contained them, and causes for it to disappear.

He wouldn’t need it, the spectator smirks, sporting a toothy grin.

The longer one idles within the water, the more they lose themselves till they lose it. This well alongside its inhabitants would cause for him to lose all reason. It was only the beginning, and it would not be long till madness consumes the innocent youth. He'd thirst for vengeance, giving into his impulses that he suppressed before. The doll would continue to enable his impulses, crafting into the sadistic and apathetic conductor he's fated to become.

The spectator– the eternal boy, laughs as he makes his exit, not bothering to watch the aftermath. The boy’s screams is the last thing that he hears, before exiting the seventh horizon through a portal he conjures.

* * *

“You’re back.”

Upon emerging from the gateway from the seventh horizon, he’s met face to face with someone familiar.

“Of course I am, why wouldn’t I be?”

A girl stands across from him, looking at him melancholically. She isn’t the saint, the caged dove from the seventh tragedy – no, she is far different. In comparison, she had yellow wings – but they were clipped too. The water under their feet ripples underfoot, when she touches briefly at the water’s edge with her bare feet.

They were the same, stripped of their names by Madame.  Sometimes the eternal boy wonders whether this girl was the saint in a different life, and if he was the poor boy that fell into the well. While he took the memories of others, she would return them – as the others stories gotten to the end. They dealt with so many different stories, taking and returning what are not their own.

“Things get lonely when you aren’t here,” She traces the water with the tips of her toes. He chuckles, which makes the girl look back with a frown.

“If I wasn’t here, you’d go mad– wouldn’t you?” He hides his smirk with his long grey sleeves. He doesn’t smirk for long, because the shoves him. “Hey, I was kidding! Kidding I say.” 

“You don’t need to be so mean.” She gives him a pointed look. “ But I guess you’re right, being in this watery void all by myself doesn’t make me feel any better. I rather you than you know who.”

Looking behind her, the scenery remained the same. At least when entering the other horizon’s gateways the sun would set; the seasons change; and ambiance was not filled with running water. It was like a giant ocean, he only knew the term from poking through the chronicle. Only sometimes would the watery void fill with fog, whenever the other lost people who wandered surfaced from the depths. 

 _You know who_ was a reference to Madame, the woman who stole something from both of them. Or decided to never write their memories in the first place. Questioning her reasonings made the eternal boy’s head hurt. Besides, being the taker of memories – he never really cared about what they were, because memories could be rewritten; Madame’s powers to rewrite and weave stories were impossible to stop after all.

“Ooh, be glad then! I don’t have to return till whenever I’m signaled to–”

A bell faintly rings in the distance, causing for both children to jump where they float. They exchange a glance, searching the empty ocean for the source. A certain gateway alights in the distance, which causes for the girl to sigh.  

“Looks like I’m up.” Out of thin air, she conjures a bow and arrows, filled with light. Its power drawing from the watery abyss, filling with the memories forgotten. She turns toward the silver haired youth with a small smile, “I’ll try not to be long, okay?” 

“You’ll be visiting _him_ , right?”  

She stops turning to glance over her shoulder. “Yes, I cannot make Madame’s favorite person wait. I wonder which kind of memories Madame wanted me to fill Hiver’s head with this time?” And with that, the lost girl turns from him, fluttering away to the other end of the ocean where the winter child sleeps. 

The eternal boy wonders briefly why they spoon feed him different memories, making them inconsistent from the rest. He was a rather stubborn child, often refusing to take part in Madame’s law. They often had to subdue him both at once, where he’d snatch his memories away and where the golden haired archer would fill up his head of a possible different life. 

Their tasks, as she described to him one time, _were_ horrible. Something she wished she didn’t have to partake in; that they were cruel. He couldn’t deny this, in the beginning, when they were brought into existence – he couldn’t stand it. But now, he’s become so disillusioned,  he doesn’t even bat an eye when taking memories – whether from the corpse conductor or slowly sapping it from the fire demon trapped within the cave. It’s his job, the only thing he has. 

And he knows, he cannot have her. He suspects, if he even tried to – Madame would do the same to him that she wrote for the rest: separating them and cause them eternal suffering. That was one road that he could never trek upon. 

So when she returns, face unemotional – a shield he noticed her build up every time she went through, he greets her cheerfully. She shoves him back, from drawing too close in fear they’d topple through Hiver’s chateau once more. 

But even without their memories, he’d be satisfied with just being able to spend time with her in this watery void they called “home”.

 

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this in like an hour, and thought it was good. un-beta'd for now.


End file.
